Page 46 of The Baron Takes a Bet
Neither moved, other than to let their eyes drift over Gavin’s shoulder.
“Yes, my lord?” a voice sounded behind him.
Gavin turned around, his brow lifting as he saw Mr. Spieth beside the dining table. He hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Spieth, what is all this?”
The butler didn’t move.
“Breakfast, my lord.”
“Yes, I gathered. But it’s a bit opulent. We aren’t having guests this morning, are we?”
“One never knows, my lord. The previous baron was very much devoted to the idea that the people who should follow social directives, rarely do, and thus always wished to be prepared to host. Particularly his friends, my lord.”
“Ah, so he was prepared for the prince regent to drop in at any moment?”
The butler didn’t flinch at the sarcasm.
“His majesty often did, my lord.”
Gavin stared at the man before letting out a laugh.
“Very well, Mr. Spieth, but going forward I don’t think we will need such extravagance.”
“I understand perfectly, my lord,” the butler said with a deep bow. The soft shuffling of slippered feet sounded in the hallway, drawing Gavin’s attention, and when he turned back, the butler was gone. Violet and Katrina entered the dining room a moment later, arm in arm and whispering. They seemed to be thick as thieves.
“Good morning,” Violet said with a charming smile, eyeing their surroundings. “My, it’s as if each room is more opulent than the last.”
“Kingston House was like this, before Holly was asked to redecorate it last spring,” Katrina said, untwining her arm from Violet’s as she went to the sideboard table. “Poor old John was admittedly awful with design.”
Gavin turned to face her.
“Holly decorated Kingston House?” he asked.
“Yes,” Katrina said, pointing to a serving tray of sausages as a footman helped make her plate. “John practically begged her to do so. Poor Holly had conniptions spending such money on furnishings, but John insisted. He wanted her to do it just as she liked.”
“How intuitive of him,” Gavin murmured.
Gavin wondered just how long his uncle had considered his plan to marry them by proxy. It must have been at least a year in the making, as he had undoubtedly decided on it when Gavin last visited him. He couldn’t help but wonder why. John seemed to have cared deeply for Holly and her family’s wellbeing. Perhaps he hadn’t been as selfish as Gavin had always assumed in his youth.
A sudden spark of unwanted jealousy simmered deep in his heart. Why had his uncle been so generous to Holly when he had refused his nephew the same amount of generosity? Echoes from his past rang throughout his brain. Aunt Marnie’s complaints about not being able to afford food, let allow clothes,seemed engraved in his memory. They were exaggerations, of course—they had never actually starved, nor had they dressed in rags—but the quality and selection of both food and clothes had certainly not been what one might expect in the home of a future baron. John’s allowance had given them enough to survive on, but it certainly could not have been very generous, considering how meagerly they lived.
Shaking his head, not wishing to dwell on such blistering thoughts, he turned back to the ladies as they sat at the table. He went towards the sideboard table and brushed off a servant as he fixed himself a plate of poached eggs and toast.
“You both are up rather early,” Gavin said, coming around the table to sit as he tried to focus on portraying a good mood. “What activity do you two planned for today that you would need to rise with the sun?”
“Well, Holly has promised that we can go shopping with Violet,” Katrina said, facing her friend. “Since she knows all the best shops on Bond Street. Her sister-in-law will be accompanying us.”
“The duchess?”
“The duchess to you,” Katrina said warmly. “But to Holly and me, she’ll always be Clara.”
Gavin was aware that Holly and the Duchess of Combe, Clara, had been good friends most of their lives, and having met the duchess before, it wasn’t hard to see how Holly and Clara could be close. The duchess had a sweet, if relaxed sense about her and was one of the most patient and gentle women Gavin had ever met.
“I didn’t think she or Combe were in town.”
“We weren’t,” a deep, male voice sounded from the doorway, surprising everyone. “We’ve only just arrived.”
